Coppice Woods

COPPICE WOODS.
Wasted in coppice woods
Drained in chiselled anguish
Gods of the elfins to sell
Sunshine in closed circuits.
Charades in preparation
For the promised future
Dazzled by forest fires
In some teaked nurtures.
Filtered sunshine
Turning orange in streets
Shredded to the pieces
By jaguar’s sharp canine teeth.